Watermark
by Valeriasg1
Summary: Episode tag to 1x11 ‘The Eye’.Author’s note: Yes, I’m that weird. Thanks and huggles to Fay, who betaread the story for me.


John Sheppard followed the seemingly endless rows of yellow lights that lit up Atlantis after dusk corridor after corridor, the military cadence of his step resonating off the walls with a metallic tinge.

The steaming mug he was holding felt pleasantly warm in his hand as he looked through the glass panels at the pitch black sky and at the waves splashing against the city buildings below him.

He shivered self-consciously and took the familiar left turn that would take him to the personnel's quarters. He was starting to become pretty accustomed to his surroundings, and he looked forward to return to his room every night to rest his body and mind from all the wonders and dangers the Pegasus Galaxy provided him with.

Yet, it still didn't feel like home.

Atlantis was magnificent, but also cold; especially in evenings like these, when no one was strolling along the corridors and all he could feel was the rhythmic pulse of the city.

Charming, cold, and still unknown.

It wasn't late, but the last few days had taken their toll on everyone, and no one had hesitated to retire in their quarters when Weir had suggested they all took the rest of the day off after the storm had started to recede.

John passed by his own room without even a glance, and walked straight to the last door to his right.

Someone else might already be sleeping, but he was sure she wasn't. More likely, she was trying to figure out how to deal with the next impending catastrophe.

"Dr. Weir? It's Major Sheppard!" He called out, thinking fleetingly that he would definitely ask McKay about providing the rooms with bells. And surnames, or numbers. That would make it a lot easier if you were looking for someone.

The door slid open a few moments later, revealing a rather concerned Elizabeth Weir.

"Anything wrong?" She was wrapped in a heavy gray blanket, and a hairbrush was dangling limply from her hand. She stepped back, letting him in.

"No, everything's alright. I just…" He shrugged. "…came by."

The space between Elizabeth's eyebrows narrowed considerably. "You came by." She echoed, her voice tinged with incredulity and badly concealed amusement.

"I come in peace and bear hot coffee. I thought you might need something warm after a day out in the rain." Behind her he could see the crumpled sheets on her bed, on which lay her notebook. "Is this a bad moment?"

Elizabeth eyed her military ranking officer for a moment, then let her gaze fall on the mug.

"No, I wasn't doing anything important." She placed the brush on the small desk by the bed and took the mug from Sheppard's hands.

"Thanks. I'm beginning to think I'll never feel dry again." She flexed her fingers around the military issued objects, trying to draw as much warmth from it as she could. Sensibility returned slowly to her fingertips, and she was grateful for that.

"While we're at it I should also thank you for saving my life earlier." She took a tentative sip of the coffee. Too much cream for her taste, but it was sweet and hot, so she wasn't going to complain.

"It's my job. Besides, what would we do without you here?"

"It's your team, John, and the scientists who do all the work. I'm practically useless, I thought it was pretty obvious today. I am more a burden than anything else." She exhaled softly and sought shelter in the dark warmth of coffee.

John drummed his fingers nervously against the side of his thigh. "The Atlantis expedition would have been a failure without a qualified leader, you know that as much as I do. You're like...like glue. You hold all the pieces together, and the mechanism just… works."

"That was a nice way to word it. Thank you."

Whether she had deliberately chosen not to mention their numerous clashes or his disrespect of her authority Sheppard didn't know, and he decided that particular subject was better off left alone.

"You know, I have my moments. Very occasionally, but I do."

Elizabeth's lips curved upwards in a small smile and turned to look outside the large glass panel that constituted the back wall of her residence.

"Looks like the storm has finally subsided. Look at that sky." To the vivid light of Weir's room, the sky above them lost its threatening blackness, turning into a classic clear velvet blue. Pegasus shone brighter than ever, and not a single cloud disturbed the view.

"Yes, it's beautiful." His eyes darted briefly to her blanket clad form a few feet in front of him.

"I still miss the moon sometimes, though." She sighed, befor a cold shiver ran down her spine. "Damn." She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I wish I hadn't left my hair dryer on Earth."

John glanced up at the damp curls sticking uncomfortably to the doctor's temples.

"Come." He ushered her into the small in-built bathroom. "The ancients took care of everything. You just have to know where to look."

He nodded towards the toilet in the far corner of the room. "Sit."

Elizabeth looked fairly puzzled, but she silently complied, sitting sideways on the toilet's closed lid.

He took her free hand from where it was resting in her lap and guided it slowly up the wall, eyes closed as if sensing for something.

"Here." John halted more or less at Weir's eye-level and waved their joined hands in front of the wall once. A metal tile receded and slid up into the wall with a mild buzzing noise, exposing to view a black, rigid tube that reminded Elizabeth of the mouth of a gun.

Before she could react, the gun blew hot air directly in her face. She jerked backwards, squeezing her eyes tightly shut in the attempt to restore lachrymation.

John flinched and released her hand. "Sorry. Didn't do that with me."

"It didn't, uh?" She blinked uncomfortably. "When did you discover this?"

John shrugged, dismissing the question.

"A little while ago." He answered evasively. "I was hoping I could trade the information with pop corn."

Weir rolled her eyes and a corner of her mouth quirked upwards in an amused smile.

"I'm afraid our supply of that particular item is pretty scarce."

"Which is exactly why I wanted to trade." He smirked.

"I'll see what I can do."

After he had followed Elizabeth back into the bedroom, John looked briefly at his watch. "I'm going to bring something warm to McKay, too. Maybe it'll make him a little less grumpy tomorrow."

"Well, hoping is for free."

John rose his eyebrows in agreement. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

He was about to leave when she called him back.

"Major Sheppard."

He turned to face her. "Yes?"

She looked down for a moment and drew her bottom lip between her teeth, searching for words. Something even diplomats happened to do every now and then.

"It's okay, you know. Wanting to talk just for the sake of it. Even if it's..." She lifted her eyebrows. "…awkward."

He snorted. "Terribly awkward."

"We could always work on our communication skills."

He shoved both hands in his pockets. "Yeah. Yeah, we should." He paused to take a deep breath. "Well, I guess I…"

Elizabeth nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Right. Rodney. Goodnight then, and…thanks for the coffee."

He passed his hand over the sensor and the door slid open with a hiss. "Anytime. Thank you too, for the…talk. 'Night."

Weir watched the major's frame disappear as the door closed quietly behind him and she finished the now lukewarm coffee with a last, long swig of ebony liquid.

She set the empty mug on her desk as she slid under the covers and picked up the previously discarded hairbrush, tapping it rhythmically on her open palm as she struggled to make sense of the arrogant officer.

Her eyes darted to the bathroom, where the black tube stuck out of the wall above the toilet. A small snort escaped her lips as the cursor in Sheppard's evaluation document blinked a last time before she closed and set her laptop aside.

She shook her head, and with a last wave of her hands, the lights went out.


End file.
